The Unknown
by Estrelle Buscador
Summary: Years have passed, and friends have gone. On the anniversary of a bittersweet day, Yugi remembers the ones that he loves, and wonders how his future will entwine with theirs. One-shot. Character death.


Greetings all! This is a brief one-shot that came to my mind a few days ago that would not get out of my head, and so I had to write it. It has an older Yugi visiting the grave of someone very important to him, and he thinks about the good times he had with them...

Warning: It is a rather sad one-shot. But I hope you like it anyway.

Disclaimer: I do not own Yu-Gi-Oh! or any of its characters. I also do not own 'Wicked,' which I refer to later on in the story. I do own my OCs though.

* * *

It was just after daybreak, and the light that had begun to rise around the silent grass was very faint, only bright enough to pick up the silhouette of one lone figure walking over the hill. The figure was a bit short and walked with meditative but sure steps, with only the slight stooping of the shoulders indicating that he was an old man. The man moved quietly, as though trying not to disturb the sanctity of his surroundings, and he had nothing with him besides a small bundle of daisies in his hand.

One of the flowers nearly slipped through his finger and the old man paused to place it almost reverently among its fellows. A smile creased his lips as he looked down at the daisies, remembering the first time he had given some to his wife. He had been a young man then, and they had been only dating at the time. He'd been able to scrape the money together to fly across the ocean to see the girl he loved live out her dream of acting on Broadway, and had only remembered an hour before the performance that he'd forgotten to bring flowers. In a panic, he'd rushed to several florist shops in the hopes of finding some beautiful roses, but they had all been sold out. The only fresh flowers he found had been a small bouquet of daisies. He smiled indulgently at the memory of himself being thoroughly embarrassed as he waited outside her dressing room, trying not to notice the enormous bouquets of dewy fresh blossoms that had been left by her adoring fans. He'd been about to throw the flowers into a garbage can when she'd opened the doors suddenly, not giving him enough time to hide them behind his back. She'd accepted them with a blissful expression on her face, and drawn him into a very appreciative kiss.

"I love them," she'd whispered, "they're so different and real. So much better than roses. You know what I like, Yugi."

He'd never bought her a single rose after that. When he'd proposed, he'd tied the ring to a bouquet of daisies. When she felt that she was done with her Broadway career and moved back to Domino to get married, all she wanted for her bridal bouquet were daisies. He smiled at how proud and grateful he'd been that day for the growth spurt he'd had their senior year as he was able to look down on his beautiful bride as he'd lifted her veil to kiss her. Given the height of his grandfather, he had feared he would remain Yugi-the-shrimp for the rest of his life. Even now, he'd thankfully kept the height change, although the curvature of age made him appear shorter than he actually was.

He'd heaped her bedside with daisies to brighten up the hospital room where she'd given birth to their son, and then to their daughter two years later. The bouquets grew bigger and fancier as time went by and income allowed, but the flowers themselves remained the same, and he gave them to her on anniversaries and birthdays and special occasions. She'd never wanted anything besides them. "They make me think of you – they're so bright and open and comfortable. They're our flower, Yugi."

And now he was giving them to her again. The old man walked up to a spot of the grassy hill with a somber smile and placed the flowers tenderly on the ground. Somewhat overcome with fatigue and emotion, he leaned onto the stone jutting out of the ground and ran its fingers across the lettering. "Happy birthday, honey."

Téa had passed away five years prior, before the cemetery had insisted on plaques rather than gravestones, and Yugi was glad for it. A simple plaque in the ground seemed almost undignified for those lying below, and in a more selfish sense, he liked being able to hold onto something when he came to visit her grave. It gave him some comfort in a way he couldn't quite understand, but he was grateful for it.

A few hills away, the caretaker's lawn mower roared into life and he began his work. He needed to have the property mowed before any mourners came, although he didn't expect many – there were no funerals taking place that day, and the cemetery tended to be quiet. The caretaker began to whistle slightly to keep himself awake, and then noticed the silhouetted figure in the distance. A warm smile spread over his face; he'd forgotten what today was. This was the day that every year, without fail, the good old man came to visit his wife. The caretaker and the crew genuinely liked the man, who had come up to them on several occasions to thank them for the care they took in keeping her resting place so well-kept. More than that, the caretaker admired the man who was so sincere and humble despite all of his successes and accomplishments. He only knew that the man was the King of Games by his distinctive, albeit now wilted, hairstyle, and the name inscribed on the gravestone. The old man never used his connections or justly earned wealth to boss around the workers here, and his composed but obvious grief spoke more of his love for his wife than any ostentatious statues or monuments. The caretaker looked down at his watch. He was scheduled to mow the north side of the property…but he didn't see why he couldn't start on the other side this morning. Might as well give the man some peaceful time alone with his wife.

Yugi could hear the hum of the motor of the distance and smiled. Despite his age, he still had surprisingly acute senses and could see, out of the corner of his eye, the lawn mower cutting a very wide berth around the place where he was standing. He understood the other man's motives instantly and smiled thankfully. He stood a few minutes longer where he was, sending love to his wife so profound that he could not put it into words, and then suddenly felt tired. He made his way over to a nearby bench, and sat down, letting his eyes skim over the brightening landscape.

It was only a matter of time before their children came to pay their respects to their mother with him. Yugi, however, would enjoy those moments of solitude alone with the sun and the cool breeze. Alone. He knew that he was alone, but that knowledge came with no bitterness, only acceptance tinged with a lingering sorrow. Although he loved his children and knew that they would always be with him, he'd been alone for years, ever since Joey and Tristan had also passed on, following Téa.

It would be good to see the kids – their vigor and compassion was rejuvenating, and he was proud of both of them. Natalie, their little girl, had always been her mother's daughter – tender-hearted, brave, and absolutely beautiful. She possessed her mother's innate grace, floating before she could walk and dancing before she could run. _My little girl,_ he thought fondly and then laughed at himself as he remembered that she was now in her thirties with her own children.

If their daughter was like Téa, it was fair that their son would be like him. And he was to an extent. He had the same avidness for puzzles, the same aptitude for strategy – but there was a lot about him that was neither Yugi nor his mother. Even as a toddler he had had a proud, almost regal bearing, and he was much more serious as a child than his father had been. When he was born, both parents noticed a certain sharpness about his features that was unlike their own gentle ones, but was very familiar to those of someone who had been very important to both of them.

They'd named him Timothy – it was the closest they could get to Atem, Yami's true name, without actually naming him that. And as much as they'd wanted to honor Yami, they felt that Timmy deserved to have his own name as his own person. But Timmy reminded them so much of Yami in a way neither parent understood but both were pleased to see – he was a way of keeping Yami with them after he'd gone.

Yugi closed his eyes in pensive thought as his mind fell onto the years that Yami had been with them. It was for only three years out of his admittedly long life, but they stood out a lot more clearly than most of his other years. It made sense in a way; these years had been jam-packed with the kind of adventures that could never be forgotten. However, it was Yami himself more than the adventures that featured most prominently in Yugi's memories of that time. They'd only known each other for three years, but Yami had been the closest friend that Yugi had ever known – even his long-standing friendship with Joey couldn't compare with the bond he shared with his dark. They'd trusted each other, supported each other, and helped each other grow. Yugi had changed a lot because of Yami, and his influence had remained with him throughout the years.

_He's been with me, like a handprint on my heart, _he thought, then chuckled at himself. _Wonderful – now I'm sounding like all those Broadway shows __Téa__ kept dragging me to see. She'd be so proud. _Yugi had only gone to see the Broadway plays Téa had been in – he had no particular interest in watching plays; he preferred being a participant to being an observer. But in this case, he could concede to the wisdom of the playwright.

Yugi had understood Yami's departure and had been able to accept it, but he missed him deeply, some times more than others. Right now, the loss of Yami struck him like a knife; he wished that his friend was here to help him grieve for Téa.

He opened his eyes as he heard the roar of the mower came closer. He looked up at the caretaker who was looking down apologetically at him from on top of the mower. The caretaker gave a quick glance at the surrounding tall grass and then back to the older man, shrugging awkwardly. Yugi smiled good-naturedly and waved him on to his work before settling more comfortably on the bench. He had all the time in the world, and he no urge to rush the moment.

After all, this would be his last trip here.

He instinctively knew this. It was not by the same instinct that guided him through his tenure as the King of Games, or that helped him complete the Millennium Puzzle, but he trusted it nonetheless. He knew that this would be his final visit. And he had no regrets about that.

He had been able to do a lot with his life. As Yami's time with them had come to an end, his own adventures had only just begun. He'd continued on with the title of King of Games, a title he possessed even up until this day. He smirked at the memory of some of the more arrogant of the younger generation who continually challenged him, thinking that senility must have set in and he couldn't hold his own any longer. His mind was still sharp as a whip, which continually surprised the younger set and irked Kaiba until his final breath. That aside, he'd helped his grandfather in treks through Egypt and had even conducted several of his own expeditions. When he'd settled down, he'd married the love of his life and had two children. He'd taken a job at a dueling academy, although they did not need the money, because he wanted to pass on his love for dueling and knowledge on to young minds. He'd lived to see his children grow up proud and strong, and it brought him immeasurable satisfaction to know that he'd helped them grow. He had the love of his family and his friends.

Yugi had never feared death – he was too busy living.

Even now, in the twilight of his life, he did not fear death. Instead he welcomed it as a friend with gently guiding hands. He believed in a life after death, a belief that had only strengthened in his encounters with Yami and the world of his memories, so he was not wary of being lost in nothingness when his time came.

One thing did worry him, however. He was not at all sure where his afterlife would be, where he would end up. On the one hand, his heart leapt at the possibility of seeing Yami again. The years of separation had been happy and content, but he'd still hungered to hear his friend's voice again. On the other hand, he could not imagine an eternity without Téa. The past five years had been painful to bear without her. Yugi couldn't be sure where he was going, because he couldn't be sure what time his soul was tied to. He was bound to this time of the present by his birth, his friendships, his love for his family, his own personal destiny, but he also had an inseverable tie to the past. He had been tied to it since he'd solved the Puzzle all those years ago. He was the king of strategy, but he could not figure out the puzzle of his own future – it remained dark, mysterious, and unknown.

The only thing he knew for certain about this life was its uncertainty.

Yugi knew that everything would all work out for the best – but he could not deny that he would have liked to know.

Suddenly Yugi felt himself growing very warm, which surprised him as the morning was very still and cold. Then everything became stunningly bright, although the sun had still barely had time to rise. He threw up his arm to shield his eyes, wondering what strange things were going on. He was so confused, and he didn't know –

"Yugi!"

"Aibou."

Yugi felt his arm drop and his heart filled with joy. All unease slipped away as he heard the voices of the two people he loved most in the world, and he was so happy he could barely breathe. Without hesitation or fear, he reached out both of his hands toward the light, and he could feel both being held. Feeling more complete than he had in a long time, Yugi stood and let himself be pulled away.

···

The sun was shining brightly as two more people came over to the daisy-adorned headstone. The woman of the pair turned to the man, her hand tapping almost nervously on the side of her thigh. "We're awfully late – do you think Dad will be upset?"

Her brother turned to her and gave her a serious smile. "I don't think so. Dad would sit here all day if we'd let him." He gave a bark of laughter. "Besides, it's his fault we're late – if we hadn't run into that caretaker who just had to sing Dad's praises to us, we'd have been here earlier."

Natalie smiled and giggled lightly, "Well, someone has to – Dad never would have, he's too modest."

"I guess." Tim looked around, puzzled. "Where is Dad?"

Natalie peered around, and then her eyes lit up as she saw the figure on the bench. "There he is." She walked close, and her already gentle eyes grew softer as she drew near her father. "Oh, poor Dad, he fell asleep – who knows how early he's been here."

"Yeah," Tim smiled, "he's always so energetic, but I guess today just wore him out. He is getting on."

His sister sat on the bench besides their father, and began to rub his shoulders gently. She spoke tenderly, "Dad, we're here, wake up." Their father was unresponsive, and her eyebrows knit as she shook him slightly, "Dad?" Her eyes widened. "Daddy!"

The sudden fear in her voice shocked Tim out of his thoughts, and he also leaned over the bench. He picked up the older man's hands to rub them – and was struck by how cold they were. Together brother and sister looked up, and as amethyst met blue, both realized the truth. Natalie let the tears stream down her face as she leaned her father's head onto her shoulder and cradled him in her arms. Tim tried to clear this throat of the lump that had formed at the sight of the man he had loved and looked up to all of his life. He walked closer, and wrapped his arms around his sister and their father and held them both tightly.

It was only when Natalie could bring herself to leave their father's side and hugged her brother, crying out the grief she could no longer suppress, that Tim allowed the tears prickling the corners of his eyes to flow. Together they mourned, seeking comfort from their flesh and blood, but even in their sorrow they felt a glimmer of poignant joy at what they'd both seen through their tears:

The look of contented peace on their father's smiling face.

* * *

A/N: Yes, Yugi died in this story. I'm not particularly happy about it, either.

This one-shot came from me thinking about what Yugi would do with his life once Yami had left, and a thought came into my head: when Yugi's time came, what would his afterlife look like? Would it be with Yami, since they were tied so closely by destiny? Or would it be with his loved ones of his own time? What I decided, in the end, that it would be with the people he cared for most, not in one time or the other but both at once. I don't know if that was clear or not...hopefully it was!

No lie, the last section made me cry. I didn't write much about their kids, but I felt bad for doing that to them. But they had comfort in the end, knowing that Yugi was happy.

Anyway, I hope you enjoyed reading it. Thanks for reading, and please review.


End file.
